Childhood

If there was the most wonderful day in the world, then it should be the day in the year of 99’s Saturday, July the 3^rd. A little boy was waiting in anticipation, holding a toy in his grip tightly, almost cracked as how cheap yet so precious it was that we won’t find it now days. He was left alone at home, that was what make him grumbling for the past half an hour. In his little head came so many assumptions as to why his dad refused to tag him along. Why? He just wanted to see his mom and soon to be little sister to see the world for the first time with his own naked eyes, welcoming her, kissing her, and anything that she supposed to experience for the very first should be with nobody but him, such a possessive brother he was. Any way did you know who was his soon to be sister? It was me.

On the other hands, in a small hospital located in small fresh green village Penatahan, Tabanan. Accompanied by a lazy afternoon where you could feel the breeze slapping your face gently, my mom and I were struggling on the way to giving me a birth but in fact I didn’t really do anything it was all my mom who crying and sweating and screaming she stood between life and death if I knew giving a birth was this scary I would have decided to stay in her tummy forever because why not? It was always felt right and it was warm like a sun shining in the morning and I loved being there.

One last blood, sweat and tears I was finally born, everything was blurry and it was cold I started to cry, wrong step because somebody took me away from my mom but not long after that I was already in her arms again fully covered and I could feel someone existence, my dad. An odd reason that made me smile out of the blue, seeing them happy like that, even though there was something blurring my eyes and couldn’t see it clearly but it was worth a struggle. Happiness covered us, so did the sleepiness. Thought a short nap wouldn’t hurt, shut my eyes closed and left them who were still arguing about a name for me.

Talking about name, my full name is Ni Made Diah Cahyani. The initial “Ni” refers to anybody who was born as a female. There are two, “Ni” belongs to female and “I” belongs to male. That’s how everything works in Balinese and a little explanation of “Made”, it is a really common thing since every Balinese carries it. The Wayan/Putu is derived from “wayahan” which means “the most mature.” And my brother carries “putu” in his. Since I’m a second child I carry “Made: in my name which derived from the word “madia” which means “the middle one.”  Nyoman, the third child, is taken from the word “uman” which means “remains” or “last.” 

According to Balinese belief, a family should only have three children. After the third one, parents should be wiser.  However, many years ago, traditional medicine used to prevent pregnancy became less effective and abortion was considered a sin, therefore, many families started to have more than three babies.  As such, the fourth child, Ketut, means “little banana” or “the outer edge of a bunch of bananas.”  This is considered the “bonus”.  If a family has more than four kids , the name cycle repeats itself.

Moving into my given name “Diah” has its own story, it’s not supposed to be “Diah” my mom really wanted to give me “Dewi” as my name back then. “Dewi” itself means “Goddess” in English of course it carries all the positive energy but there was my dad who kept refusing since he has his own, which was “Diah”. He was believe every person named “Diah” was carrying all the positive energy too, beautiful, intelligent, cheerful and etc that was what my dad expected me to be and he also was a fan of  Diah Permata Sari that’s how “Diah” ended up to be my name. The last one “Cahyani” this the only one I understand clearly “Cahyani” stands for “Cahaya” in Indonesian in hope I could shine brighter than the sun everywhere I go and spread brightness to everyone I see I think my bright personality coming from this too.

Life is thousand paths of memory, we live, we laugh, we love and we die those all are actually a memory that we will remember forever There’s a lot of childhood memory that I still remember, but one thing I could still retell every detail of it, is the day that made me got a scar on the soles of my right feet. It was a late morning me and my cousin were watching cartoon and it was pretty much boring. Then we decided to play outside but I took a second to take my new flashlight like toy it made by glass, it was not too big, a flash thought came into my mind “This is awesome, got to show this up to everyone” my plan to bring it but not until ‘prank!’ I accidently dropped it and made it broken apart. My bad not thinking to clear it up or anything that maybe made all of us safe, the only thing I thought was my cousin waiting outside.

Around 12.00 when the sun right up above us we went back home only to go back to my room because it was the time when the good quality cartoons were aired. We were over excited that we forgot to take some water to drink as a good host’s child it was my responsibility to make my guest feel like home. That was when everything happening. I accidently stepped on the glass splinters of my flashlight toy as I jumped from my bed, and it stabbed my soles feet, quite deep. That made me couldn’t feel anything, feeling numb but I remain silent. Didn’t want my mom to find out. My blood flowed profusely to the floor it made me dizzy and weak but not until my aunt found out and started to calling out everyone. All of them panicked, could see it on their worried faces. I didn’t even know they love me that much until the day. With the remaining awareness, survived a little while and let them covered my feet with a cloth since we didn’t have any bandage at home and quickly brought me into the nearest clinic and started to work on my soles feet. I couldn’t walk properly for nearly a month after that, couldn’t play, and it also made my brother losing his fun for taking care of me and that was bad couldn’t forget every detail of it.

Living in a small village away from the hustle and bustle of the ugly city, hale a fresh air every day, a clear water that we could drink directly from its source, my village almost has no deficiency I could say. Yes, I was grown up there. My neighborhood was in another level, they were special. Everyone was kindhearted and having a lot of friend around my age to play with. What could I expect more? They were so caring and made me feel like a child of everybody and it was fun I could take a bath anywhere. I could have foods anytime I felt hungry they would always accept me with open arms. Beside the fact they probably scolded me once or twice as I made some mistakes and that was still make sense.

My childhood was really fun, there was no phone I mean there was but most of us didn’t really own one. All we did was only seeking for fun, playing. Unlike now days there was a lot of unique games that we could play without money or anything but still fun for example, congklak, kasti, gala-gala and, etc. All of them have different names in every region. As for me I really like kasti it was slightly like baseball we needed to build a team and playing the ball that made by janur or young coconut leaf and we needed to reach some spot that already been set while the ball thrown and back to where we started. If there’s a member who hit by the ball then the team lost and we need to keep the house accompanied or else the enemy will bomb it. That was how fun living a childhood around my age. I wish I could turn back time.

When I was child, I liked to watch barbie. Everything there was so dreamy. I’ve always been dreaming to live in a house like a princess like mansion although what I got was nothing near from that, our house was small and it was kind of a sharing house since my dad and my uncle own it together. My dad himself only own two not too big rooms and he made it like a real house for us where there was a bedroom and a living room no bathroom inside as we have a shared bathroom outside. We slept at the same room but my dad made it like a bunk bed for saving spaces. Luckily, we were living in the area that almost has no pollution so we didn’t need any fan. Small yet comfortable that’s how I describe our house in a word.

Sharing house for long term didn’t seem to work well on us my mom and my aunt often involved in fights and that was getting pretty much irritating so her husband, uncle made decided to build a small and low budget house at least worth for a living. And at the end my dad owns the house alone made a little touch on it because the house was too boring He was a constructor, he redesigned the house and everything with his magic hands built the house consist of three bedrooms per each of us, the couple counted as one by the way. I finally got my very own bedroom but I didn’t really like to sleep alone and I just left it for years as I prefer to sleep with mom and dad more.

As the time passed by, I wasn’t capable to sleep with my parents anymore but I also didn’t want to sleep on my own, well the grass is always greener in the other side so I decided to sleep in my brother’s as he gone for study in the city and I gave out mine to grandma after her husband has passed away said she was afraid to sleep alone. My room as it used to be my brother’s, was colored in sky blue it was not too big there was a comfortable single bedroom, a study table that dad made for us, a closet where I put all the beloved clothes in, and in the wall, there was so many posters as we were adoring the same idol, Girl’s Generation to be exact. It was slightly like that but truly in fact I was followed anything he liked. There was no TV only a couple of sound system because I loved music, music flowed in my pulse pumped it to heart so that I could survive against life, that was how much I love music.

My parents were actually the best couple that I ever known in life. Their personalities were completed each other. My mom, she was the fourth child of six siblings, petite, so tiny even after giving birth, she never changed. The hair she got there was beautiful, a bit wavy and colored in black. Unlike mine, she had a couple of doe eyes and they were beautiful, I got lost. Her nose was nothing special. Got a small mole on the right cheek and one under the nose. People said it was a sign for somebody who liked to talk a lot. A Gianyar woman, who got a bright skin, but still had an Indonesian vibe in it. Brought up the Gianyar beauty. She was born in Gianyar a place full of arts even my mom was an art too, just like most of Gianyar people, gentle in taking care of others even the way she speaks, always full of manners. A person who gave me a birth was a down to earth person.

My dad was actually the opposite he was a talk active person and like to share even a little thing that happened to him, sometimes It gone embarrassing but most of time people like what my daddy brought into words and also his joking was never failed. I love his sense of humor. My dad was also known as one of the friendliest man in the village. As what I heard from everybody he was a playboy and liked to hang outs a lot that knew every little corner of Bali not just a place where he was born, Tabanan. But literally everywhere. A man who raised me since little, had couple of almond orbs, and they were just as beautiful as what my mom had, a sharp nose that made everyone envying it, just like a character out from an Indian movie, perfect. I could say.

I’ve spent every day with them up to 15 years until I went for a better education in Denpasar, they said. I’ve been going through the ups and downs with them. Mostly all of the experience was a struggle against life and it wasn’t necessary for me to share it to everyone. Instead of sharing a bad memory there was one moment that still freshly swimming in my mind. As a villager, of course my parents owned a patch of rice fields that they planted with tomatoes. It was no fun, my 10 years old mind thought. But there were my parents trying to drag me along to the rice fields because it was harvesting time. I refused but ended up lost by only 5000 rupiahs, so tragic. We were happily walking, with weapon completed bamboo basket, hand gloves, traditional bamboo cup etc. When we finally arrived, everything was colored in green. I didn’t like it. Too greenish. Starting the ‘let’s pick some tomatoes’ already felt so boring. My little steps brought me where the plants were making a line, following that and picked them one by one.

But then I heard a voice. a so familiar voice. That was my brother! And his friends with a kite on their backs. And with that my daddy asked them to do the harvest with 5.000 rupiahs in hands. I turned out to enjoy it a little too much, we were not just harvesting, but we also playing with the little worm, they usually could be found on tomatoes leaves, they were cute, I used to like them a lot. Harvesting, running, laughing I didn’t realized the tomatoes was all harvested I didn’t want it to end. My brother asked their friends to fly the kite again, of course I didn’t want to lose a chance to see it, begging my stubborn brother to join me in, but he kept on refusing I almost cried because it usually worked but my daddy like a super hero he was, coming on the right time brought us some fresh coconuts let them enjoy it with one condition, they should let me join them. Oh yes, I was my daddy’s little princess and I still am. I always got spoiled by my parents. After he succeed to make me finally flew the kite.

Without my brother, it became an adventure for the three of us. We went catching eels and frogs. It was really an incredible moment in my life, no one could relate. My mom told me that daddy usually brought her some when I was still hiding in her tummy. Ever since then, eels became my favorite. But, did you know? Catching eels was not really easy. My dad was covered with mud and all I could do was laughing with my mom who was carrying all the catches. Then after they thought enough, we continued the journey with me was being piggy backed by my hero. On the road, we could see a lot of guava trees. The fruits seemed all ripen, and I started to whine. Less than 5 minutes I already got some guavas on my small bamboo basket. I really love them. We arrived home a bit late, it was around 6. They prepared me a hot water to take a bath and went have a family dinner with eels and frogs as the main coast. This might be just a small thing for others but it was actually everything that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Come to a story when I was junior high school, I was really annoying. It wasn’t really obvious since I didn’t show it up to everyone. A fifteen years old me, was a girl who didn’t obey her parents. Nonetheless, I was still receiving the same amount of love. How sweet. But don’t get me wrong. Just like the other, my parents also humans, they could mad over something. Especially my father.

One day, I was having a crush on someone and confidently will say, I was a secret admirer. My father knew him well since we lived in the same village. Thought it could be perfect but the fact was my father getting more protective, I was too young he said. I didn’t believe him of course, it was a common thing, sometimes we just need more experiences in life. But since then, my father wouldn’t let me going out alone. He was too much. He never allowed me to date.

Not only that, to prove that he was the real strictest person alive, I had a friend, a really close one. She was the one who I spent my day with. Time flew too fast, when she finally reached puberty she turned out to be a little bit different from who I used to know. Let’s call her G. She was everyday busy with her facebook. I also found a difference on the way she dressed, too brave from my taste, inappropriate. With that, a lot of people asked her to go out on facebook which I couldn’t assure whether they were good people or not.

My dad on the other hand, didn’t like to see me hanging out with her anymore. I was speechless. Wasn’t he overrated? But I tried my best to obey him, whatever that made him happy. On November 20^th there was an event, called Puputan Margarana. Some people liked to go there, and there was G asking me to go, I refused at once, but then I thought, it had been a long time since the last time we met so I gave it a try. I didn’t ask a permission from my dad by the way. It was all fine until we reached half of the way then the rain began to pour we stopped by in a small closed shop and searched for a raincoat only to find none. My feeling was not okay, said it was a bit exaggerating but the place was dark, G was trying to text one of her facebook-friend and guessed she already made an appointment. The idea of her not telling me in the first place got me mad. Without hesitation, I insisted to go back home.

Plan cancelled. We went home all soaked and there was my father looking like a monster, scolded me. I knew I was wrong but I wasn’t a kid anymore. My dad, he didn’t allow me to make friends freely, didn’t even let me to sleep over in my aunt’s house which was ten steps away, should be home on time and so many more. That’s how strict he was.

Elementary school was the first time for me to get to know what assignment is. Really frustrating. Went hang out with some friends for a while and talk about those godforsaken assignments. Strangely, they seemed to not affected. the assignments themselves were not really difficult, but I had a problem in managing time. One of my friend said she got everything done by her parents. Wait, was I the only one? And yes, they were all got a helped by their relatives. I didn’t want to be stressed out alone so I asking for help.

It wasn’t a bunch of question or something only a painting that should be done on time. My friend’s work or not really theirs, were beautiful. I asked my dad to make me one, without a second thought, he refused. I was thinking that I might be not his princess anymore. My mom wasn’t even on my side, she didn’t care. Went sulking and cried with the door locked. So childish. Then I heard a voice outside my door “If dad make it for you, will you satisfy knowing that won’t considered as yours? If you decide to make one and who knows it’d be prettier than others, we would be proud of you, everyone would, including yourself.” That was something I could learn, I made everything on my own since then. My work ended up getting an 80 on it. Even though not the prettiest but I was so proud of myself.

There was a time for me to imagine how it’d feels like if I get married in the future. Would it be nice? But if turn back the time, to when my parents got into a serious argument, the feeling to experience one disappeared. They were sometimes out of control and ended up to hurt each other, physically and mentally. It wasn’t once or twice that I found out my mom cried in silence. The worst, she had waited me and my brother outside the school and asked whether we would like to go with her, to a place where she had grown. I might be too young to understand the whole situation but was believe in myself enough that I could see sadness in her eyes. In that time, I almost lost her. Was it because my dad? She ended up staying in her childhood’s house for nearly two weeks, we would never get used to live without a mom, since everything will be easier with her presence. I didn’t know, what did my dad do to finally make her home.

It took me a while to finally understand what a marriage couple face in their life. It was not only sweetness but all the ups and downs. As we spent so much time together, I’ve seen them got into a fight for almost hundred times, knowing how sensitive my mom was and my dad not even better, he took it for granted. But all the fights only made their commitment even stronger. I believe that.

There was nothing much that people could do in a village. My dad was really creative, he liked to design a house even he never studied architect before but he was really good in that. That was how my dad became a mini constructor. Only following his passion. He could feed us and fulfilled our needs as my mom only being a good mom at home. We were very thankful for that. Even though we weren’t rich, at least we felt enough for what we had. Our family considered as rich in showing love. Yet in material I would say we weren’t poor as well, we could still afford some clothes to wear and some foods to eat every day. What could we expect more?

Our family didn’t really earn a lot of money. We tried to spend it wisely. As for me and my brother only spent it on snacks that was beside everything that they provided such as clothes, foods, education purposes and etc. but in a village, everything was so efficient compared to the city. We even could find foods around us. Especially vegetables but sorry I didn’t like those green monsters. Yuck.

Before I was existed, my parents were blessed with a lovely son on April 24^th 1996. My only one sibling. I used to call him by name but he seemed to not like it so I started to call him “bli”, a Balinese version of brother since then. We were really close, but it was a long ago. Since there was no one who could take care of me when our parents weren’t home, he took the responsibility. We used to watch cartoon together, sometimes he took me out to a playstation rental and played there until mom coming from work. My brother and I were really different. We didn’t have much similarity except for we really look alike. Of course. He was like the male version of me.

My brother knew how much I love music. I liked to watch music shows a lot, singing along even if I knew nothing about the lyric. He had done something unexpected for me once. When we were little, pure, didn’t own any cellphones. He, with all his creativity made me a book full of my favorite’s song lyrics.  He probably tried to show his love for me or It could be because he didn’t want me to sing cluelessly. But except everything that matter, he was really lovely.

I was one of those luckiest people alive. Surrounded by the warmth of love. Even my grandparents, who had like ten grandchildren, never lack in showering me with love. I might didn’t know when they were born, neither did they. would make sure it was between the world war era. Both were also born in quite pleasant village in Tabanan. Senganan and Marga. Wondering how they were met each other before. They both were humorous. Compared to my parents, they were better in facing the situation since they had stronger chemistry, looked at their faces, full of happiness. Every story has its end. My grandpa left my grandma forever in 2018 because it was the time, no serious illness. I saw him leaving. Held his hand tightly, I had gotten a fear of losing him, but I needed to let go. He would find a better place.

Dug more when my grandpa was still alive. They lived in small house right beside ours. Unlike my brother who didn’t like to stay over at theirs, me was different. I oftentimes tried to find a reason, anything, just so they would let me sleep over for one night. There was no TV or such a thing, only a single dim light they got above their bedroom. I did have a reason why, it was because my grandma was a good masseuse completed with my grandpa who liked to tell me a story yet always seemed interesting for me. It was warm there. One of my favorite spots with my favorite people.

As a Balinese, which most of people owned dog as their pet. They were trusted to protect our house, loyal and sweet. That was why I owned one. His name is Bobi. My parents said he is the 7^th generation of the first pet they raised. Bobi was really a good dog, he knew when the time to play when the time to just stay, so clever. We all loved him. My brother even painted him with so many different poses. But not until a drama happened, there stated that Bali already plagued by a rabies virus which made the government ordered to kill almost all of the dogs in Bali, didn’t make sense since they only killed the Bali race dogs. I lost him in the most tragic way, he got panged on the head that made his eyes spurted out.

Among the other children in the village I was born, I considered as one who was random. I used to like whatever was in trend. A type of a person who just like to make everyone happy, if with liking what they liked would work then so it be. One thing, I dressed like what I wanted to, I was so into barbie I liked wearing dresses, not the fancy one, only some dresses that my mom brought even after he came from traditional market. But like the other, I also played a lot. Kasti was my favorite. But when it came to a situation when my dad or mom wasn’t in a good mood, I liked to hide under my blanket. They would definitely find me, but I did it on purpose. Because I like being persuaded.

People liked to mock me. Just because I was too skinny. I smiled didn’t mean I like it. It was just a pleasure to see them playing with karma, kidding. In actual fact, I ate a lot. More than anyone could expect. I ate seafood, pork, beef, chicken, eel and so many more but mostly, my parents served eel and mushroom soup and eggs. Hmm I did love them very much.

Said everything in the village was so cheap, when I was junior high school I only got 10.000 rupiahs every day I went school. 7.000 rupiahs was enough to afford a delicious food though. Saved the rest to buy myself some chocolates on valentine day. I treated myself better than the other. That was only for school. My mom was everyday home, she was such a walking bank for me. Whenever I would buy something she gave me money, with limit of course. As the only one daughter in the family, my mom didn’t force me to much on something. Making offers, pray and kept the house clean were became my go to everyday. Being a good girl would be a point plus. I wander was she too easy on me? Said she was truly and angel.

Education was really important, and still are. I spent 6 years in an Elementary school near my house only one block away. All I could remember was good things. Even though we got assignments those didn’t seem to stop us from playing games. The field ceremony was quite huge, we used to play there for break. Nothing much to tell, but the school I attended didn’t have many students. Around 70 students in total from grade 1-6. That was became the reason I had always chosen in every event, because they didn’t have enough to choose.

Move to another level, my Junior High School was also in the village. The school was super huge, green and clean. Nothing much different there except for starting to understand how being in relationship felt like. Starting to know what internet and the affect they gave on us, so big. I almost got scored because of my phone, only a warning letter but was still lucky enough that they didn’t keep my phone. So naughty.

Much memory to tell about in my favorite part of my life. Senior high school was the most difficult to forget. Left the freshness behind in the village for a better education that only existed in the city, which was not true, for me. I went to SMK Triatma Jaya Vocational High School in Dalung, with my cousin, as I lived in her house. Incredible, was a word that could describe everything that I had gone through there. The best luck was when I got those 5 humans I spent my 24/7 with, Mia, Novi, Sindi, Anggie and Gungde. My SHS would never be colorful without them. We were classmate except for Gungde. Six of us weren’t really a good student, as we also got punished for once or twice for coming late but didn’t mean we were bad too. That was just an important experience you should had in life. No matter what, English would be my favorite subject of all time. No questions asked.

When I was in Senior High School, it was already a modern era where we could find gadgets everywhere. Me, with my five favorite people was part of a squad. That was what we called a group of people who had the same goals. We shared everything. We saw each other growing from an egg to a hen. My friends were really a perfect gift I could ever ask for. They were not arrogant, helpful especially in exam, that was actually how to prove someone really sincere to you, and funny, sometimes embarrassing, we also joint the same extracurricular, theatre. Of course, we were the founder.

Compared to the elementary and Junior High School, I did want to repeat all of them but they’re different, and I never really had a favorite teacher, I was just didn’t really think I should have one. But not until that day, one Monday morning, the first class after a long, long holiday. It was on the grade 11. We needed to get used to all new teachers, we were on another level. Bad idea to start the morning, math. Because our brain refused to work. There we met a middle age woman for the very first time. It was already felt like hell for all of us. She was the strictest, or so we called killer. The way she taught was worst, I thought. Pinching, tweaking every time we couldn’t answer her questions. The way she spoke was nothing better, so rude like a street gang. But god had changed our point of view, as time flied so fast we loved her even more. She was actually a humorous person, she made us laugh while teaching math, she tried to make us enjoying math which actually worked and she has a habit in calling everyone by so many different names. As for me, she called me ‘luh camed wati’ I didn’t even know why, but she became one of million reasons I wanted to repeat my SHS the most.

Eat, play, sleep, repeat. Sounded boring. But believe me those are really precious that most adults were wanting to stuck in it forever. if I didn’t play a game or said when the weather wasn’t really friendly I spent my whole day watching barbie and all those fairytale characters. They were so amazing, they could fly! They even had magic. I wanted to have wings just like them too. I loved barbie. But there was one more creature that made me even more amazed it was Doraemon. I had always dreaming if one day I could make everything possible. Or just simply exploring the world with a little everywhere door and spreading kindness, that was me with my imagination I wished would become real. Doraemon was the real hero.

Back in family time. We rarely spending time outside. We actually did, but not with the four of us since my mom didn’t really like to. It was usually me, my bro and dad. During holiday, dad who had a lot of friends often invited us to visit all of his old friends in Ubud. Ubud was like my dream place which I had dreaming to live in one day. His friends were all nice, lived in the artistic place they usually had something unique to give. One of my dad’s friend was a silver craftsman, I didn’t know when exactly the first time I met him but I was too young. He touched my right ear and said “I have something for you, would you wear them? You’ll like it” and yes!!! He gave a couple of beautiful silver earrings which was shaped like flower with beautiful black gem in the middle, I was so happy I wanted to cry. On the other hand, my brother didn’t receive anything from him but he said his son would take the place. Which little did I know his son was one of Balinese musician, Ubud Band. Of course, my brother became super excited and ended up taking 2 t-shirts and 1 cd home. We both were lucky.

Bali had a lot of event to celebrate. But the one that took us in a long holiday was Galungan. Many people who worked or study in the city were home during the day, so many nice foods were served especially pork, that was such a tradition a day before Galungan. The most fun was because all the relatives were home. After separating for months, that was a perfect day that could make us reunite. Even in quite village could be crowded in the most beautiful way because a lot of people praying. Me and family didn’t have any yearly tradition, that was just not our thing.

As so many things happened year by year. What happened many years ago, seemed like yesterday for me. Things changed. The place where I was born also changed. It was still green, but the air seemed to not as fresh as it used to. Some of the water sources got blocked by plastic, so terrible. Personally, it was really a big problem. I felt sad out of sudden. Not only the surrounding, but todays life also a bit different. From a little princess who always got pampered by her parents to an independent princess who lived alone in the city. No one knew, how hard it actually was for me. But I could still face it with a smile on my face.

Living alone, making my own money. I usually spent it on foods, clothes and internet. As a teenager, I did hang out a lot with friends, but never really had a favorite spot. We went to Starbucks when we brought enough money but when we didn’t we ended up chilling on small stands on the street. For me, it didn’t really matter. The only thing did was whom you spent the time with.

Leaving the strictness behind, I started to live freely on my own. Not that my parents didn’t care anymore but they were too far to reach me. Not that I was happy to had one, I preferred to live with them even there were rules I need to follow. That was better. I indeed, could back home in my boarding house anytime I want. My latest so far was at 00.00 as I finished working at 11.00 PM. My life wasn’t as easy as anyone thought it was. But as far as I could remember, there was nothing bad happened on my way home. I wished it would remain the same.

There was nothing much different in the way I dressed, except I didn’t wear any princess like dress anymore, that would be pretty much embarrassing. My parents didn’t have time to judge what I wear, everything looked good on me they said, and I agreed. Why wouldn’t I. as long as I didn’t ruin my good image by destroying it wearing a mini hot pants or something related. My brother would be on the first line to scold me. I sure knew manners well. Either in the way I dressed or speak. Both were never failed to make my parents sign in relief. Proud.

Back to the SHS memory again. My high school was considered as trendy. June was when our graduation held. Everyone was beautiful. I even amazed with my own self, dressed in beautiful sparkling kebaya, bold make up which made me turn to be a whole different person as all the innocence disappeared. The day when I took so many pictures in my life that made my phone storage almost exploded. Just because the day was incredibly unforgettable I needed to make it last forever. The happiness and sadness mixed together. But sadness was dominated me the most, I didn’t want it to end, everything. Everything that we went through together, the togetherness we built, the story behind it all, those were repeating on my mind. Fear. A fear of losing them, my five favorite humans and literally everyone, I knew that one day, one of them would change or maybe would act we were nobody and has no story to tell. But me, would never be one.

I valued myself for the potentials I had. Deep in thought, I wasn’t a confident person. In every step I took, there always be a feeling to doubting myself. Graduated from SHS made it even worse, it became a fear to face the world forward. I hadn’t thought that it was all just the beginning. Nervous, I didn’t want to let my parents down to what would I ended up to be in the future. How could I repay them back for the love and material they had spent on Me. It haunted me to death. I didn’t even dare to dream anymore. Until one of my inspiration said “Life is only a path full of efforts”, Byun Baekhyun. It more or less made me realized, that there was nothing to be afraid of. The key was to try. ‘even if I fall one day, I’ll find a way to stand up’ that what I usually think after graduated. That pushing me hard to dream and to make it true. My dream was never change, I wanted to make a lot of money and build my own business

My goal was to see, to try and to get.